


you don't care about us

by lovesongs



Category: GOT7
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-05
Updated: 2018-06-07
Packaged: 2019-05-18 12:28:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14852754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovesongs/pseuds/lovesongs
Summary: seducing him was as easy as falling off a log.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [aeriyaaa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aeriyaaa/gifts).



> it's dedicated to my close friend, aemi, and roughly based on 'no night is too long'. enjoy ♡

**prologue.**  
  
Jinyoung was twenty one years old and about to graduate when he came across Mark Tuan, a lecturer at their university who had a degree in Archaeology and who gave a course on extinct species in Australia every now and then. He was thirty seven, handsome and, furthermore, so downright and withdrawn that it scared a half of his admirers off more often than not. Yet they couldn't take their longing eyes off him while he was crossing the hall to chat with another professor, much older, his lips cracking and forming a courteous smile. He didn't smile or laugh on any other ocassions, and when he did, it was always set and lacking in emotions.  
  
Jinyoung hadn't seen him before they ended up cramped together in a thronged elevator. He was close, his scent was fresh and tinged with a trace of cigarette smoke that made it alluring. Jinyoung could see his defined cheekbones and neck near at hand, could see his deep brown eyes, austere and cunning, looking around as if trying to spot a familiar face among strangers.  
  
His office was on the fifth floor of a building where Jinyoung rarely had any classes as he was a marketing major so his subjects and a course of lectures that professor read in the main didn't adjoin much. Yet he couldn't deny an uncanny urge to see him over and over again.

 **act 1.**  
  
He'd been living all alone since his sisters put their disabled mother in a nursing home.  
  
Their mother was reluctant and up in arms, yet they didn't even bother to hear her out while reaching a certain decision. Jinyoung was denied a say as well so he cut short ties with his sisters as soon as a whole affair was over. He didn't want to feel guilty each time he'd visit his mother. However, she still considered them all culprits, disregarding the fact that Jinyoung was actually against her being sent to that place.  
  
He didn't attempt to make amends.  
  
He left his hometown and moved to Seoul, using money that their late father'd left for all of them. He quickly found a neat, but tiny apartment and settled down, not actually going out or doing other things that all his coursemates did at that moment, he was too absorbed in studying, working part-time and paying a rent at once.  
  
-  
  
At some point it seemed that professor'd read his mind and decided to taunt him since for a month or so he could see him in each corner of a campus, appearing here and there out of thin air, hastening or loitering through a horde of students, ogling at him, carrying a pile of books in his arms and trying to look through them while waiting for his coffee in the canteen.  
  
Mark was everywhere yet out of reach.  
  
It resembled a game.  
  
Hide-and-seek.  
  
Mark'd meander by him in the corridors, sit across him in the library, take the same elevator. Jinyoung could see his black leather jacket in each corner of the campus, his tall svelte figure turning up at a place out of nowhere and then all of a sudden evaporating and appearing in another one as if he was pursuing Jinyoung prepensely, enticing him more and more.  
  
Moreover, everyone, even his friends who didn't heed much attention to rumors that periodically spread across the campus, surmised that he might've been gay as they'd never noticed a ring on his ring finger or seen him with a woman.  
  
On the other hand, nobody, including other professors with whom he usually interacted on a daily basis, knew him as a person, his nature.  
  
-  
  
Jinyoung set his sights on finding out the truth, but he wasn't sure which method would be more effectual: asking upright or hang fire till Mark's scheme would falter and facture.  
  
Mark was distant and lukewarm. Neither of his options seemed to be decent yet he couldn't think out others. He didn't have much time until his graduation. After that he might never see professor again, and it didn't appeal to him at all.  
  
-  
  
It was obsession, avidity and curiosity intermingled and superimposed. He couldn't call it love, for love usually called forth a desire to care about your lover, to please him at any rate, to go on dates and live together, but Jinyoung didn't feel that desire in the slightest.  
  
He was agog yet he didn't want to cross the line.

 **act 2.**  
  
He was sitting in the library when he caught a sight of Mark's blond head and leather jacket sweeping past the library's windows. On impulse he snatched his backpack and stormed off, attempting to make out Mark amidst a swarm, but it was uphill, almost impossible. He settled on going to his office and wait till Mark'd crop up at the end of the corridor. He didn't had other classes on that day so he was willing to spend another hour on campus. Mark showed up half hour later, pondering on something as he almost bumped into his door. He flicked his head up, his eyes still a little blurred, and noticed Jinyoung.  
  
"I don't think I remember your face. Who must you be? And what do you need?", he asked.  
  
"I'm Park Jinyoung, majoring in marketing."  
  
"Nice to meet you. But what are you doing here then? I'm an archaeologist, not a marketer."  
  
Jinyoung was dragging his heels while hastily trying to come up with a decent answer.  
  
"I'd like to take a course you read, sir."  
  
"But it's hardly pertained to marketing."  
  
"Well", Jinyoung began, turning bright red, "I've been quite interested in fossils lately."  
  
"I don't mind, but I think you should talk to your supervisor about it first. How many courses have you taken this semester so far?", Mark inquired in a considerate manner.  
  
"Five, but I believe another course won't be a burden on me. My other subjects aren't that difficult to comprehend so."  
  
"As I've said, that's fine with me. Still, you should discuss with your supervisor since my course's not related to your major at all."  
  
"Of course", Jinyoung replied, a stiff smile on his face turning into a polite one, "Are you free now?"  
  
Mark quirked his right eyebrow, but didn't make any remark that could provoke discomfort.  
  
"I suppose?", he said instead.  
  
"Have you eaten yet? We could grab food or something. It's a lunchtime anyways."  
  
"Well, I don't consent to such offers from students as a general rule, but alright."  
  
-  
  
Canteen was completely empty, aside from a couple of students in the corner, discussing something related to their assignment.  
  
Mark didn't order anything, but coffee. Then he pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his breast pocket and lit one up despite the rule that it was prohibited to smoke on their university's territory.  
  
"So, Jinyoung", he spoke up suddenly, "are you really interested in my course? That's pretty rare. People usually are keen on business, finance or human resources management these days."  
  
"Well, I used to watch those programmes about archaeology and all when I was a kid."  
  
"I see", Mark uttered pensively, "I fancied them a lot too. They influenced me to pick archaeology when I was wavering between it and medicine. My parents weren't content with my choice."  
  
Jinyoung wasn't even listening anymore, even though professor's voice was entrancing, he was peering at his large veiny hands and moist lips without shame, feeling how his throat had tightened and then loosened a bit, still struggling to breathe in and breathe out.  
  
Mark was oblivious.  
  
"What else do you like, apart from archaeology, professor?" Jinyoung managed to question.  
  
"Classical and neoclassical music."  
  
Jinyoung wasn't a savant, he didn't know much about classical music, even though his mother used to be a deft and well-known violinist.  
  
"What about you?", Jinyoung flinched and looked up to notice Mark staring at him questioningly.  
  
"Nothing much", he muttered, "I mean I'm usually quite busy at this time of the year because of upcoming finals and other things so."  
  
"I see."  
  
A pause that hung in the air as a thread after that was tense and rigid, Jinyoung could almost see it quivering, ready to split.  
  
"Enough", Mark suddenly smirked, "do you think I'm not aware of your intentions? I'm not a dolt."  
  
"What are you talking about, sir?"  
  
"I know your little game, Jinyoung. You're all downright transparent. It's not that difficult to read your mind, and you're not the first one."  
  
"So? What would you do if I said you were right?"  
  
Jinyoung leered at him, then he stood up and ambled round the table, quickly losing his courage as soon as he heard Mark's voice.  
  
"What would you prefer me to do then?", it was cold, not far off glacial, "Well?"  
  
"Nothing."  
  
"That's boring. You're not inventive at all."  
  
Then Mark snatched his collar and pulled him down with might and main.  
  
"If you wanted it, you could've said it from the start, but you were so shy, weren't you? So afraid of asking upfront, right? You're so lucid."  
  
Mark released him and put his polite smile on yet again, turning back into his composed self as if nothing occured a minute before. 

 **act 3.**  
  
He was dating three girls at once, but something crucial was lacking. He wasn't satisfied enough.  
  
He hadn't seen Mark for a week straight before he spotted him in the courtyard, talking to a flock of students, bombarding him with all sorts of questions in eager rivalry as if they were eagles, about to tear their prey apart. Mark felt ill at ease, still he was concealing it without fault. However, Jinyoung could almost sense his emotions faltering and slipping down a scale, slowly transforming into irritation. He was ready to run, but they were fairly persistent.  
  
"Professor?", he called out, tone courteous, "Are you busy? I'd like to discuss that article. I think it might be of use for me when I write my thesis."  
  
Mark furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, then caught on to Jinyoung's attempt to free him and pushed through the horde, moving them apart.  
  
"Thanks", Mark whispered as soon as he approached the younger, adjusting his jacket.  
  
"No problems", Jinyoung said, his tone swiftly losing a trace of courtesy, turning into the tone a person'd use when talking to a friend, "Mark."  
  
"Are we on familiar terms with each other? I don't remember letting you call me Mark."  
  
"And what are you going to do? Punish me?", Jinyoung queried, "You do look like a guy who's into bondage, blindfolds or nipple clamps."  
  
"Shut up. Go home."  
  
"I'm not going home tonight. My sisters are coming to check up on me, and I don't want to see them, to be honest, so."  
  
"So?", Mark asked, not grasping a hint.  
  
"So I was hoping you'd let me sleep over at your place. Don't worry. I don't usually snore."  
  
"Not happening", the older cut short.  
  
"You owe me for saving you."  
  
"I could get rid of them on my own."  
  
"Are you sure? You looked so lost."  
  
Jinyoung could see how his remark riled the older up, he was amused. He'd heard about Mark's infamous short temper in spite of the older's futile attempts to flaunt his sang-froid.  
  
"If you're still taking my course, don't", Mark began coldly, "because I won't let you pass."  
  
Jinyoung sniggered.  
  
"I thought better of it."  
  
-  
  
Mark's apartment was commodious, but cold, eliciting a certain feeling of isolation. It didn't have much furniture or decoration, and it reminded Jinyoung of Mark's discrepant nature: sometimes he resembled the sea during storm, tall waves surging darkly, with white crests; on the other hand, when he was composed and tranquil, he mirrored a zen garden.  
  
Mark didn't take off his shoes when he entered his apartment, ambling straight to his kitchen and pulling cups out of a dresser. Then he made coffee, pour it out and sat at the table, gesturing Jinyoung to sit in front of him.  
  
Jinyoung didn't touch his mug.  
  
"Your apartment doesn't seem snug."  
  
"You're not going to live here so why do you care?", Mark retorted, "You can sleep on the couch. I'll give you a shirt and a towel."  
  
"You won't even ask anything?"  
  
"It has nothing to do with me so no."  
  
"They put our mother in a nursing home against her will. They didn't even ask for my opinion. So we don't really talk anymore."  
  
"Do you consider them heartless?" Mark asked, lighting up a cigarette.  
  
"They should've asked her first. Yes, she can't walk, but she's our mother. Shouldn't we take care of her to pay back for everything she'd done for us?", Jinyoung replied.  
  
"Maybe you wouldn't be able to take care of her as well as trained nurses? And you're young, you probably want to do what all young people usually do, don't you? So that's only natural."  
  
Jinyoung mused on it for a while then muttered, "I still feel a bit guilty as if I betrayed her."  
  
Mark glanced at him, but didn't say anything else. Instead, he stubbed his cigarette out and put the mug in the sink, loitering to his spacious living room which had floor-to-ceiling windows and a table made out of stained glass. He switched on his old radio set, the one that a person could find at any flea market, then unfolded his couch and pulled a duvet out of a wardrobe. He tucked it in a blue slip and flung it on the couch, after that he lit up another cigarette and cast a quick glare at Jinyoung.  
  
"Here you go", he croaked, "get lost at dawn."  
  
Jinyoung didn't attempt to strike up another conversation and simply thanked the older, fiddling with his sleeves and a bracelet.

 **act 4.**  
  
At some point Jinyoung perceived that he was no longer his insouciant and flirtatious self; he abandoned all his liaisons and actually took a course on archaeology though Mark wasn't quite happy about it, to put it mildly. Yet of course, as a professor, he neither commented on it nor he frowned or pursed his lips in annoyance. He was as polite yet frigid as usual, if not more polite.  
  
Jinyoung'd sit during his lectures and stare at him, at his hands as Mark pointed at a large blackboard behind him or gestured while talking about hybrid and monstrous creatures in Minoan iconography or how he participated in archaeological excavations at the site of Gran Doline, Spain, once, at his lean frame.  
  
It seemed to Jinyoung as if a mantle was thrown over his eyes and ears, all his senses resembling spears, capturing each facet or habit he'd notice in Mark, feeling strained when he was around.  
  
He wasn't inclined to label feelings which essense he hadn't deciphered yet.

 **act 5.**  
  
He found himself reflecting on each glance, each gesture cast in his direction, recalling those lukewarm eyes settled on his face when Mark asked him a question related to something they were discussing at that moment. He could no longer conceal his yearning as well as he'd been doing it before his curiosity turned into passion.  
  
He was hounding him, attempting to slink so Mark wouldn't hear his steps; observing him from afar as he engaged in another conversation with a student and then slipped away, and Jinyoung could no longer trace him.  
  
It was infatuation.  
  
Or obsession.  
  
Jinyoung wasn't sure which label to choose.  
  
But it wasn't love either.  
  
-  
  
They were all alone in the elevator when that happened. Jinyoung couldn't foresee it occuring as he slid into a car and slanted against the wall so that others could also fit in.  
  
He didn't even notice Mark at first. The older was standing behind tall men in neat suits and polished leather brogue shoes and wasn't looking at anyone or anything in particular, ruminating on something disguised and distant. He had a protruding bristle on his chin, ruffled hair and a deep scratch across his cheekbone. Students and professors were looking askance at him and trying not to intrude into his personal space as if he was contagious. However, Mark was unaware and indifferent. He never paid much attention to such things as condemnation.  
  
Then. Others had cleared out, and suddenly they were all alone. Mark was upright, staring at an indicator display board and illuminated buttons or through them, Jinyoung couldn't say for sure. Instead of pondering, he creeped a little closer.  
  
He didn't do much to provoke the older, however, in a fleeting second he was already cornered, Mark's hands holding him down and sharp teeth gnawing at his lips. Jinyoung didn't attempt to get free, instead he clasped his arms around Mark's neck and hauled him closer.  
  
Their heated kiss didn't last long.  
  
Mark didn't say anything.  
  
He turned around on his heels and walked out. 

 **act 6.**  
  
Those lips, a bit chapped but esurient, had been haunting Jinyoung's mind since that incident. He couldn't get them out of his head, they were so obstinate in their determination to torment him that he could no longer get a good night's sleep.  
  
Mark's endeavor hadn't altered much, however.  
He didn't even remark on their encounter, opting for sweeping it under rug as if it were a blunder. Jinyoung was at sea; he couldn't throw light on Mark's decision-making system, it came across as a labyrinth or a gruelling conundrum. But Jinyoung couldn't leave it be, he didn't want to. He longed for something more outright, concrete.  
  
"Park Jinyoung?", Mark called out one day.  
  
It was Christmas Eve, and Jinyoung was supposed to call in on his mother in the nursing home and clean up his apartment before his sisters would get a chance to harp on at him.  
  
"Yes?", they were alone, other students had dispersed once a lecture was over.  
  
"Do you want to get out of here?", Mark asked.  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"Tomorrow's Christmas. Do you want to spend it with me? We could buy wine or champagne on our way home or we could travel to the south and celebrate it at the beach."  
  
"What?"  
  
"At first, I was a bit vacillating since you're my student and I couldn't predict what others would do or say if they found out. And I still can't. However, I'm ready to give it a go."  
  
Jinyoung wasn't even staring at him anymore, mouth wide open and lips trembling, he was gaping at a vague spot behind him, trying to splice all threads, thick and thin, back together, to ingest words that professors had let out of his fine throat. He was flabbergasted.  
  
"So", Mark spoke up after a pause, "are you in?"  
  
And Jinyoung beamed from ear to ear.  
  
"I am."  
  
-  
  
That's how their affair had started until it ended a year and a half later, on that derelict rugged island, lost in the Southern Ocean, a hundred miles off the mainland. Jinyoung couldn't predict that him denying the older would lead to such consequences as Mark's death. He wanted their relationship to be over, he didn't wish him dead.  
  
At first, they were so attached to each other, barely spending time separately, indulging in long trips to the south of the country, watching old black and white movies on a white wall in Mark's apartment, learning French because they were planning on visiting Montreal one day. They were in love or, at least, Mark was in love. Jinyoung still was unsure if he could call what he felt love. He preferred to describe it as lust and affection. Mark wasn't satisfied yet he couldn't let Jinyoung go. In his eyes Jinyoung was much more than a nerd who loved reading books at nights instead of sleeping as any other person, who collected vynil records and didn't drink tea.  
  
On the other hand, Jinyoung couldn't toss out a sensation that he was immured. He'd always regarded a relationship as a means to set limits which neither of lovers could cross, to trap each other in the vicious circle of amour fou and abhorrence, alternating each other now and then, before he and Mark started going out. And months after their first date as a couple their affair, albeit offbeat, only made him sure of it.  
  
Mark was much older and possessed a particular conviction that if those who were younger didn't yield to him as soon as he demanded submission, he could and would do anything to force them to knuckle under.  
  
He was the ocean.  
  
And Jinyoung was a cog.  
  
-  
  
When Mark said, "I love you", for the first time, they were lying on the floor in his apartment after another ferocious argument. Jinyoung's nose was bleeding, but he didn't pay much attention to it; he was peering at the ceiling, dithering between snatching his clothes and going home or staying to listen to Mark's resonant voice as his throat'd spit out obscenities. However, Mark didn't settle on spurring him on again; instead, he said those three words that Jinyoung was afraid to hear.  
  
He was afraid as he couldn't say them back.

**act 7.**

He loved adventure that their affair, albeit twisted and deviant, brought to his life, consisting in constant accusations thrown at him by his mother and rows with his sisters which he never came first in, they always won. But he couldn't stand limitations and attachment that it implied as well, he envisaged it'd wither as soon as Mark'd figure out that he was alone and their little dalliance couldn't turn into anything more than it really was, a nuisance.  
  
Yet at the same time he didn't want to be a villain.  
  
-  
  
"I should've kept my feelings to myself."  
  
That's what Mark muttered after yet another terrible quarrel they'd had, for Mark'd seen him flirting with a freshman in the canteen.  
  
"Yes, you should've", Jinyoung replied, standing up and adjusting his outfit, perfectly aware of Mark boring holes in his back.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Nothing", the younger grinned, his mocking tone transforming into that of a caring partner, "Maybe you need to chill and take a bath."  
  
"Maybe you need to quit firing me up?"  
  
"We were just talking. You're too sensitive."  
  
"However, you keep doing that, egging me on. I can't bear seeing you with anyone else, and you know that, don't you? You just find it amusing."  
  
"I find what amusing, for fuck's sake?"  
  
"My love for you. You consider it a ball you can toss about and then rip it in pieces."  
  
"If you regard me as a heartless douche, then why are you still here? We can break up right at this moment, and you will no longer have to deal with my antics. You'll be free. Don't you want that?"  
  
"You. You want that. You don't even care about me or us or anything else for that matter."  
  
Jinyoung lit up a cigarette.  
  
"Ease off. You're wasting too much energy on trying to bind me to yourself. I'm not a property."  
  
"I'm not trying to do that. I just love you. And you? You've never said it back. Not even once."  
  
Jinyoung caught hold of his backpack and put out a stub, casting a glance at Mark's clenched fists and red face. He was enraged and bitter.  
  
"I'm going home."  
  
And he left.  
  
-  
  
They hadn't talked to each other for a month or more after that fight. Mark'd been eluding him.  
  
Then, later on Jinyoung received a letter.  
  
How romantic, he snickered.  
  
"Would you like to go to Australia and then on a cruise in a week? And I'm so sorry for the last time. I hope you're not mad at me anymore."  
  
He pitched on sending a message.  
  
"Fine."


	2. Chapter 2

**act 8.**  
  
Sydney was wallowing in water.  
  
It took them more than ten hours to get to Sydney, Australia, and they spent another hour in a traffic jam, observing people, young and old, haring off by the cars set in long lines amidst downpour. Jinyoung was breathing on the window and writing down lyrics of songs he was listening to at that moment; Mark was gazing at the road and other cars, at motorcycles which roared past them and rushed ahead, neatly detouring around trucks and coaches as if they were snakes.  
  
All of a sudden, Jinyoung recalled his mother. How she applied red lipstick when she felt ill at ease, how they both were puffing on her menthol cigarette in her car while she was driving him home after school; how she collected patterned summer dresses in her cupboard, buying them each spring at their local flea market, but never put them on, handing them out to her friends and acquaintances once summer was over. When he was a child, they went to a village not far from Ilsan to pay a call on his grandmother. She possessed a garden where she cultivated vegetables and fruits, tomatoes, cucumbers, apples and pears as a rule, and a pergola where they dined and chattered in the evenings or spent boiling days, playing board games. His mother was his grandmother's only daughter so she loved them all dearly, and he loved living at her place all summer long until he had to go back to Jinhae and school which he hated with all his heart.  
  
Then his wandering thoughts shifted back to his mother, to her haggard pallid face and thin arms, to her ruthless insults thrown at him as if he wasn't her son, her child, to her wheelchair without which she couldn't move anymore.  
  
She'd never known her father, however, she was sure that he was still alive and in Australia, not even caring for his abandoned daughter.  
  
-  
  
Their hotel room was homespun. Wallpapers were green and bedding was as white as a sheet, smelling of a washing liquid or powder.  
  
They didn't have much time to go sightseeing in Sydney as they had to leave in three days for a little town on the south cost of the country where they were supposed to depart for a cruise. However, Jinyoung wasn't inclined to be with Mark all the time; when he had a chance, he sneaked out and went for a stroll on his own. He rode the subway to the center and roamed around the city till sunset, then came back to their hotel, showered and slid in their bed as soon as possible, quickly drifting off to sleep, so that Mark wouldn't have a chance to rant.  
  
Then one night he came to Mark sleeping with his clothes and shoes still on.  
  
He reeked of beer and a woman's perfume.  
  
And Jinyoung didn't feel anything.  
  
He turned around and spent the night outside, sitting at the bar, hitting one cigarette after another and observing weeping girls and their pretty faces smudged with mascara; well-groomed men dashing home after another working day; tired and stressed out women tugging their children to a bus stop.  
  
Sydney was a lonely place, he thought.  
  
And he was lonely too.  
  
**act 9.**  
  
They were riding through a desert.  
  
Jinyoung'd never seen deserts in person before, only on pictures, his oldest sister's postcards and television. So he was taking in a vast landscape of sandhills, grassland and gibber plains, blusterous wind clouting his face and eyes, in particular, with sand grains. Their driver, Mark's close friend, Ian, a paleontologist, switched on the radio, and they were all listening to Sia.  
  
Mark'd been quiet ever since they left Sydney. He was smoking and leafing through a brochure of a cruise, sometimes peering at the illustrations and captions printed under them. Their cruise was supposed to last for seven days with lectures and discussions in the mornings and entertaining program after dinner. Cabins were allotted to each participant which implied that he, Jinyoung, wouldn't have to see Mark at all times.  
  
And it put his mind at ease.  
  
On the contrary, Mark was disgruntled.  
  
-  
  
They arrived at a town at midnight, and their cruise ship was supposed to set sail at four in the morning so they all, including their driver barged into a local bistro which worked round the clock.  
  
"You're pleased, aren't you? Happy?", Mark hissed, his scathing tone irritating Jinyoung.  
  
"With what?"  
  
"That we'll be living separately."  
  
"Listen, can you chill and try not to read between the lines when there's nothing to read? For once."  
  
"When I kiss you, you don't kiss me back, when I hug you, you don't hug me back. What have I done to deserve such cold treatment?"  
  
"Nothing. I'm just tired."  
  
"Tired of me? Of us? Tell me. Don't pretend that nothing's going on. Something's wrong, and you won't even bother to clue me in?", Mark snarled.  
  
"You demand the truth, but once you get what you want, you call me a cunt and throw a fit", Jinyoung snapped back, downing his whiskey with soda in one go, and rose to his feet.  
  
But Mark was fast. He grasped his wrist before Jinyoung could leave him hanging again.  
  
"What's going on?", he questioned once more.  
  
"Oh, so you want the truth, don't you?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Promise you won't throw a tantrum afterward."  
  
"I promise. Well? Fill me in? Tell me."  
  
Jinyoung stared at his deep brown eyes growing moist, sudden guilt preying upon his mind.  
  
He sighed.  
  
"I don't want others to know about us."  
  
"Why?", Mark queried, "Is that all?"  
  
"Yes. And I don't want them to know about us because it might cause a strain in your friendship with some people. Not all of them are as tolerant as Ian or our friends back home."  
  
"I don't care about others. I really don't. So we don't have to keep our relationship a secret."  
  
"Listen", Jinyoung began, worn out, "it's important for you and for me as well."  
  
"Why? Can you be more specific?"  
  
"University might find out. My mother and sisters might find out. Your family might find out", Jinyoung flared up, "Don't you give a damn?"  
  
"No, you do. You do give a damn. Because you don't want to let people know that you're gay."  
  
Jinyoung didn't say anything.  
  
And Mark smirked, the corners of his lips trembling as though he was feigning it.  
  
"Oh, I'm so right."  
  
**act 10.**  
  
Mark attemped to placate him, to make amends, however, Jinyoung didn't do anything that could indicate the older's vindication. While they were preparing for the cruise, putting on warm coats and waterproof combat boots so that they could easily climb up the cliffs, he kept silent.  
  
His cabin was tiny, but it didn't matter as long as he wouldn't need to see Mark each morning.  
  
-  
  
"Why didn't you let me in last night?", the older asked as he sat at the table, beside him, and placed his plate and cup on its surface.  
  
"I was tired so I fell asleep early", Jinyoung lied.  
  
"Should I believe you?"  
  
"That's up to you, darling", Jinyoung smiled, but his smile was brittle and frigid.  
  
"We haven't slept together since we left Seoul."  
  
"So what? You could easily find someone else here. There are a lot of youngsters, eager to play games you have to offer. I'm not in the mood."  
  
"That's not how it's supposed to go. We're dating, for fuck's sake, we're not friends with benefits."  
  
"I've agreed to accompany you during this cruise not to listen to your moaning all the time."  
  
"You're making me do this, you're firing me up."  
  
Jinyoung sipped at his coffee and cringed.  
  
It was bitter and cold.  
  
"Fine. You can come to my cabin tonight. Are you contented?", he spat out.  
  
-  
  
While Mark was pounding into him, holding his legs up to make it easier for him to move back and forth, he didn't even let out a sound that could stipulate his pleasure. On the contrary, he was in pain. He was clutching at Mark's shoulders and biting his neck to shut out discomfort and soreness in his entire body.  
  
Once it was all over, Mark lit up a cigarette and sighed whereas pulling his underwear and sweatpants on and lacing up his sneakers.  
  
"I can't figure you out", he whispered and then left, carefully closing the door behind him.  
  
**act 11.**  
  
It was getting out of control, and the reasons consisted mostly in Mark's insufferable tenacity and his lack of feelings he was supposed to possess as the older's long-term partner.  
  
He didn't love him.  
  
It was as simple as that.  
  
Yet he couldn't figure out the least harrowing method to separate, to tear all the ties apart, to bring a halt to it so that Mark wouldn't attempt to trail him, and he could, considering his nature.  
  
-  
  
He was lying on his bed, reading a book on paleontology and listening to music, when Mark burst into his cabin without knocking. He was foaming at the mouth, but his eyes were as cold as ice, if not colder, they were emitting frigidity.  
  
"Whore", Mark taunted him.  
  
"What the hell?", Jinyoung asked, losing his temper, "Who said you could barge into my cabin all of a sudden and insult me straight off?"  
  
"I know about you and that paleontologist."  
  
"If you're talking about Ian, then you're fucking ludicrous", he sneered at Mark.  
  
"No, I'm talking about another one. I introduced you to him during our first day here."  
  
"Can you not bother me with your ill-founded accusations? I'm worn out, and I want to sleep."  
  
"Oh, so you suddenly get tired when I try to talk to you, but you're not tired at all when it comes down to chatting with others?", Mark scoffed.  
  
"You're being fatuous."  
  
"Am I? I've seen you flirting with him."  
  
"We were talking. Talking. Not flirting."  
  
"I've had enough of you taking the piss of me at all times. I'm your boyfriend, not a pet."  
  
Mark was on the verge of derangement.  
  
"What do you want from me?"  
  
"I want you to be candid."  
  
Jinyoung peered at him, attempting to riddle out if Mark really wished for his sincerity or not. Then he closed the book, placed it on his bedside table and got up, his cautious eyes never leaving Mark's taut figure, his hands.  
  
"Don't throw hands or whine after I tell you the truth you want so badly", he said.  
  
"Watch your tongue. I'm older than you."  
  
"I thought we were equals? Was I wrong?"  
  
"Just fucking say it", Mark roared.  
  
Jinyoung could see veins on his neck bulging out.  
  
"I want to break up", he said.  
  
His honesty disturbed Mark.  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Because I don't love you. And I've never had."  
  
All of a sudden, he felt Mark's glacial hands catching hold of his throat, and then he sent him toppling, his face turning scarlet as if it'd filled with blood. Mark was trying to throttle him, Jinyoung figured it out at the same time as his fingers tightened around his neck sturdily. He put his hands on Mark's chest and attempted to repel him, but Mark was strong. When Jinyoung finally managed to push him down, he found his feet in nothing flat and hurled, "Get out."  
  
Mark didn't counter him that time.  
  
Instead, he adjured, "Don't leave me."  
  
"Quit it."  
  
Mark grabbed his hand and planted a kiss on it.  
  
"Mark, for God's sake, stop."  
  
"No. Not until you forgive me and take me back."  
  
Jinyoung groaned and screwed up his eyes.  
  
He was debilitated.  
  
"It's all over, professor. We're done."  
  
**act 12.**  
  
On their last day of the cruise they had to go on a short excursion around a little island which mostly consisted of sharp edges, trodden paths and towering trees, a wintry landscape which etched into his mind for the rest of his life. He tried to stick to a group of dendrologists who were a little older than other scientists on their cruise ship, and he felt much safer around them. At least, he wouldn't have to see Mark's frigid eyes all the time which was a relief, considering that acute strain he could sense in their forced interactions each day, feigned and ill-natured as though it could shatter any minute.  
  
Then dendrologists made a stop to dissect a tree they found engrossing, and Jinyoung escaped them and went for a stroll on his own. island was little enough for him not to get lost and find a way back in no time.  
  
He was scrambling up the cliffs, musing on different things, including his distorted affair that had, fortunately, ended, and looking around in order to spot a familiar face so they could amble back to their cruise ship together when all of a sudden Mark emerged out of thin air.  
  
"You thought I'd let you escape me that easily?"  
  
He seemed petulant.  
  
"I have nothing to say to you", Jinyoung replied.  
  
"But I do. Consider my feelings. For once."  
  
Jinyoung shrugged and turned around to leave when he was pulled back with force and flung on the ground without warning. Mark was on him in a moment, landing a punch on his face and then another one, so wounding that Jinyoung could barely detect Mark's features. Jinyoung kicked the older off his body and rose to his feet, feeling his mouth filling with ferrous tang. He smirked.  
  
"Is that all you can do? Fighting?"  
  
"I love you", Mark said in a soft voice, his soiled hands closing into tight balls.  
  
"Oh, so it was your way to manifest love?"  
  
Jinyoung couldn't care less about the aftermath any longer. He was fed up and spent.  
  
"Say that you were fooling around last time, and you really are sorry", Mark shouted.  
  
"I'm not because that was the truth you'd desired. I didn't compel you to ask those pointless questions each time we met."  
  
"Pointless?"  
  
"I perceived that I possessed no feelings for you anymore a long time ago, frankly speaking. But you were too blind and ignorant to notice it."  
  
"Yes, I was blind because I loved you. And I still do, despite all your shortcomings."  
  
"You're obsessed with me", Jinyoung hissed, "and if you can't distinguish one thing from another, then you really are slow on the uptake. You're suffocating me, you're tiring me. I can't handle your temper and your constant moaning. Can't you let me go? I'm not asking for more."  
  
Mark attemped to smack him again, but Jinyoung pushed him back roughly which resulted in Mark striking his head against a cliff and going limp in a flash, blood streaming down his forehead and staining his clothes.  
  
At first, Jinyoung was petrified.  
  
Then he scuttled down the rocks to their cruise ship, his heart beating so fast that he could hardly hear anything else. Before facing others, Jinyoung hid behind a tree to cool down and put on a false front so as not to arouse suspicion.  
  
They didn't suspect anything and didn't ask any questions regarding Mark and his whereabouts.  
  
-  
  
When they came back to Sydney, others invited him to dine with them at a prestigious restaurant, but he politely declined the offer, attempting to smile as naturally as he could. Then Ian, out of all people, asked someone about Mark and said that he hadn't seen him since their stop at that island, and Jinyoung went into panic, nevertheless, feigning his concern sublimely so nobody'd notice his sweating palms.  
  
He bought a ticket to Seoul straight off, not staying in that country even for another second.  
  
**act 13.**  
  
Mark didn't die.

He survived.

He read about it in a newspaper. Ian and others friends who were worried sailed back to that island, hoping that they'd find him there, and they did. Then there was a short interview with Mark about how he'd spent those cold three days in the middle of the Southern Ocean. Mark didn't mention him, and his answers were brief.  
  
**act 14.**  
  
Four months had passed, and he hadn't seen Mark even once during that time. Then he safely graduated, and his sister's old friend hired him as a manager at his enterprise. He visited his mother once or twice and told her about the cruise and Australia at large, cutting out the end as a matter of course, as he'd promised in one letter he sent. And everything had been going on pretty smoothly, without fault, before he bumped into Mark on the subway.  
  
However, Mark wasn't hostile to him.  
  
Instead of quarrelling, he asked, "How are you?"  
  
"I'm fine, I suppose", Jinyoung answered on the qui vive, "What about you? How are you?"  
  
"I'm alright, thanks for asking", Mark smiled, but his smile was flat, "What do you do?"  
  
"Working as a manager at my friend's firm. You?"  
  
"I quit my job at the university."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"It brought to mind rather unpleasant memories."  
  
"I see", Jinyoung replied, "Listen, I'm sorry."  
  
"It's all in the past", Mark said calmly, "I'm not mad at you anymore. I'd been quite persistent and adhesive, and that's why you did what you did, and I understand it. So I forgive you. But don't try to repeat it. It might bite you in the ass."  
  
"Shut up. What are you doing then?"  
  
"As if you care", and Mark added, his grin faltering and dissipating, "And I never want to see you again. That can be arranged, right?"  
  
"Of course", and they parted ways.  
  
Mark quickly went downstrais and ran into a car of a train that was going to the center.  
  
And Jinyoung sauntered home. 


End file.
